


The Return of The Lost Wolf

by addict_writer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reunion Sex, Rut, Scott is a Good Friend, slight spoilers season 6A, sse17, stereksummerexchange17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addict_writer/pseuds/addict_writer
Summary: Stiles goes back home from college, running away from a secret he'd kept from everyone. Derek's return wrecks havoc in Stiles, bringing back long buried memories. Written for Sterek summer exchange 2017.





	The Return of The Lost Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I owned Sterek... 
> 
> Here's my take on what could be their story written for stereksummerexchange17

 

 **Title:** The Return of The Lost Wolf

 **My ao3 name:** addict_writer

 **My tumblr name:** <http://addictedtobritishmen.tumblr.com/>

**My giftee's name:** shinigami714 - I hope you will like this story. I've tried my best with it.

 **Type:** fic, NSFW, Alpha!Derek, hurt/comfort

 **Warnings:** slight OOC, slight dubious consent

 **Rating:**  explicit

 **Summary:** Stiles goes back home from college, running away from a secret he'd kept from everyone. Derek's return wrecks havoc in Stiles, bringing back long buried memories. Written for Sterek summer exchange 2017.

 

News traveled fast in Beacon Hills. Especially when the news where about someone returning after years of absence.

“It's been a week since Mrs. Thompson started the gossip about spotting him,” Stiles said agitated. He sat on the counter in Scott's kitchen, pushing his hair out of his eyes with a hand. The other hand held his phone, as he thumbed through it, searching for news.

“She's old, buddy. I bet she didn't see it right.” Scott was doing his best to be a supportive friend, but it was hard when he knew the truth would hurt his best friend.

“And others said they'd seen him around town for longer!” Stiles wasn't deterred.

Scott looked up from his laptop, readjusting his position in the kitchen chair. “If Derek was back, I'd know.”

Stiles gripped his hair, glaring. “It's been years! I bet you lost his scent. But this picture doesn't lie!” He jumped off the counter, putting the phone on the table.

There was a blurry camera caption of a Camaro parked in a gas station in town. There was no actual footage of the owner of the vehicle since conveniently the second the car had parked, the power had gone out.

“I don't want to get our hopes up, Stiles. That car could belong to anyone. Literally.” Scott didn't want to be the bad guy, but he'd learned to be level-headed about any situation he confronted with, as he took his role as the Alpha seriously.

Stiles tapped the picture, enlarging it. “6-T-F-S-5-3-2.” He didn't even look at the screen as he recited the letters and numbers. “That's Derek’s car plate.”

“The things you can remember – it's scary.”

“Also this.” Stiles went to the photo gallery in his phone. “I went into the woods with Lydia the other day. I stopped questioning her weird behavior a long time ago and filed the trip into the Preserve as a morning walk. Did I mention she called me at four thirty, demanding me to drive her to the Preserve?”

Scott barely paid attention to what Stiles was saying. His eyes were on the photos. There were paw prints in the mud. “A bear?”

Stiles scoffed. “How is it that you survive without me? It's a wolf's paw – a large wolf.”

Scott pushed his laptop away, standing up. He placed a hand on Stiles's shoulder. “Man, I know that anything you found at this point would make you think that Derek is back. I seriously don't want to see you hurt, Stiles. The last time…” He trailed off, cringing at the memory.

Stiles distant. Stiles lifeless. Stiles merely surviving.

“What about this?” Stiles pressed on. He pulled up a photo of a building. The lights from the top floor apartment were on, something that had been absent for years. “Fuck. I hate this.” He answered his ringing phone. “Stilinski.”

Scott watched his friend, afraid of Stiles's little investigation. Too many years had passed since Derek had left. No one had thought his departure would be permanent. He'd gone after Kate, to finish what he'd started in front of La Iglesia.

Scott and his friends had finished high school and moved on with their lives.

He'd started UC Davis. In his second year of collage, Kira had returned home. She'd opened a small business where she taught martial arts. Malia had joined her, liking the idea of the brutal sport. No matter what Kira or her parents told Malia, she insisted that kicking ass wasn't about being smart. They'd stopped convincing her otherwise, since she was doing a great job at teaching teenagers how to defend themselves. Kira had taken to the smaller children classes.

Lydia had attended MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She started as a junior, being a genius. She'd graduated from School of Science, and they all joked that she was the Mad Scientist.

Stiles had moved across the country and started George Washington University in Washington D. C. where Scott's dad had managed to get Stiles in the Pre-FBI program. He'd been so excited and all their phone calls were full of awe and babbling about the things Stiles was learning. Until one day when Stiles's words became cryptic and their chats lasted barely half an hour, instead of hours. He'd missed Thanksgiving and Christmas, nevermind New Year, blaming it on the third year being the hardest.

Scott had accepted Stiles's lies, because he was aware his friend was lying. He didn't need to be near Stiles and listen to his heartbeat, Scott knew Stiles better than he knew himself, which also didn't worry him. Stiles had his reasons to distance himself, and he'd tell Scott when the time came.

To Scott's astonishment, the time came the summer after they graduated. Stiles had the opportunity to stay in D.C. and become the youngest Special Agent the agency had in years, but he took the first plane home. He opted to be a phone call away if the headquarters in L.A. ever needed help, but he missed home and his father.

Scott could clearly remember walking into Stiles's childhood bedroom, ready to tackle him and ask all about his time in D.C.. They'd seen each other a handful of times over the years they'd spent in college, and in the last two years, they'd only seen each other through a computer.

**oOo**

_Scott stopped in the doorway. Stiles's heart beat alarmingly fast and his breathing was ragged._

“ _Buddy?” He stepped into the room, cautiously approaching his friend._

_Stiles stiffened, brushing a hand over his face, before turning to hug Scott. His tears soaked Scott's neck and his hands crumpled his shirt._

“ _I missed you too, Stiles.” Scott patted his back gently. Something told Scott this was more than Stiles missing him._

“ _Scott,” Stiles said in a rough voice, laced with pain and despair._

“ _I'm here, buddy.”_

“ _God!” Stiles pulled away, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes, sniffing loudly. “Dad can't see me like this.” He took a deep breath._

_It was then when Scott became aware of the front door being slammed shut. Somehow it had escaped his heightened senses that the Sheriff was home. He blamed it on being freaked out by his best friend's behavior._

_Heavy steps echoed in the hallway, and when Scott chanced a look at Stiles, he was shocked to see him composed. The only evidence of his meltdown were his red-rimmed eyes._

_The Sheriff appeared in the doorway of his son's bedroom, then in two long strides, he had Stiles in his arms._

_Scott watched his friend carefully. It seemed he'd built a defense wall and nothing could touch him. He barely showed any emotion as he returned his father's hug, answering all the questions about the flight and how nice of Lydia to pick him from the airport and that he'd join him downstairs soon after he caught up with his friend._

_It took weeks for Scott to find out what had happened to Stiles, to harden him so, to change him so dramatically. Everyone had noticed the difference, but no one questioned it, not even Noah. They all thought Stiles had left his witty remarks and sarcastic comments behind, now being part of the law enforcement. Scott knew better._

_What appeared as a regular Saturday turned out as a_ _time_ _of confessions._

 _Stiles, as always aware of the moon phases, asked Scott for a trip into the forest the night of_ _the_ _full moon, to their spot._

_Scott was outside Stiles's house, leaning against the Jeep, hands jammed inside his pockets. After being held up by his father, warning him of the full moon and the things lurking out there, to which Stiles managed a joke about taking the dog for a walk, he was out the door._

_Their eyes met. Stiles knew Scott had heard him, and he smiled widely. It was one of the rare moments Stiles showed his emotions._

“ _I've got coffee.” Scott showed the thermos Kira had pushed into his hands,_ _before he'd left their house_ _._

“ _And I've got booze in the backseat.”_

“ _So I'm the designated driver?” Scott scowled, jumping into the passenger seat._

_Stiles got behind the wheel, leaning over to pop the glove compartment door open. “There should be wolfsbane in there somewhere.”_

“ _So_ _it was_ _you_ _who_ _broke into Mason's store!”_

“ _Dude! Really? That's so black market...all he sells there. I have my stash.”_

“ _Spoken like a true detective.”_

_They chatted about their week, and how Stiles was still adjusting to working in a police station where his father was the boss, but his job was higher in rank being part of the FBI. In turn, Scott told him about his patients at the clinic, and how he'd nearly killed a rabbit. The thing had been frightened when Scott approached it. The story made Stiles laugh so hard there were tears in his eyes. They could both remember Stiles's suggestion of Scott's nightly adventures when he'd first become a werewolf._

_At the Preserve, Stiles parked the Jeep, grabbing the whiskey bottle from the backseat, along with a leather jacket._

_Scott thought nothing of it until he saw Stiles dressed it in. Stiles had always been lean and thin, but he was too skinny since his return from college. Engulfed in the too big jacket, he looked odd, but the familiarity of the leather jacket had Scott in shock. He held himself from commenting until they reached their clearing into the woods._

_Stiles threw himself on a flat boulder, opening the bottle. He took a few gulps, before stuffing a few grains of wolfsbane powder into it, handing it to Scott._

“ _Is that Derek's jacket?”_

_The simple question wrecked havoc inside Stiles. He closed his eyes, wrapped the leather closer to his body, as if Derek was there, holding him and protecting him._

“ _Stiles?”_

“ _Yes.”_

_Silence stretched between them._

_Scott stared at the large full moon, his mind full of questions._

_Was Derek back?_

_Why hadn't Stiles said anything?_

_Where was Derek?_

_Did it have something to do with the way Stiles behaved?_

“ _Remember the day you called to tell me that Kira was back and that you planned on buying a house together?”_

“ _That was years ago. Yes, I remember.”_

_Stiles propped himself on his elbows, looking up at the sky. “I told you that I was on my way out to a date.”_

_Scott gasped. His wide eyes fastened on his friend._

_Stiles stifled a smile. “No...you're wrong. For now,” he said quietly. “I left the campus building, ready to run to catch the bus to take me to the pub. Lucky it was already dark outside. I remember I screamed when a black dog blocked my way. When he looked at me…” Stiles turned to meet Scott's eyes. “His eyes were blood red, but somehow I knew. He was badly injured. Imagine how fun it was to sneak a massive, bleeding wolf into my dorm bedroom. Not.”_

“ _Red eyes?” Scott frowned._

_Stiles ignored the question, continuing his story._

“ _Inside my room, he collapsed on the brown shag carpet, imbibing it in blood. I panicked. He didn't seem to breathe. There was a lot of blood. I don't remember saying anything, but later, Derek told me that I'd been a mess. While I'd retrieved gauze, antiseptic and tweezers – you never know with you wolves – he'd shifted into his human form. It helped me see the wound_ _s_ _better and work efficiently. There was a large gash into his side and claw marks on his back and chest, his left kneecap was blown, his fingernails were crusted with drying blood.” Stiles took the bottle, drinking greedily. “I was eighty percent sure Derek was going to die. I mean, no one bleeds that much and survives. Not even a supernatural creature. At some point in between changing his bandages, I passed out. In the morning, he was there next to me on the shag carpet, once again a wolf. Over time, I'd learned that he felt safe as a wolf.”_

“ _Over time? Stiles...how long?”_

_Bile rose into Stiles's mouth. “About two years.”_

“ _The time you hadn't returned home…”_

“ _I don't expect you to understand, Scott. Let me finish talking. Derek stayed there with me. I went to classes and all the field trips, but when I returned to my dorm, he was always there. It took about a month for him to heal completely. He'd been looking for me...for years. Outside D.C. he crossed a pack's territory. They mistook him as a lone omega.”_

“ _He is an omega!”_

_Stiles scrambled up, narrowing his eyes at Scott. “He was always the Alpha, Scott! He'd only lost the eye color when he saved Cora. In the very least, he became a beta. An omega would never be able to fully shift. Dude, you're such an idiot!”_

_Scott was surprised to hear all the passion in Stiles's voice, the way he defended Derek, the way he praised him._

“ _Okay, okay...go on.”_

“ _The pack attacked him. Completely rude and uncalled for. Derek defended himself.”_

“ _You mean he killed them?”_

“ _It was in defense!”_

“ _That's why his eyes are red again?”_

“ _Yes. Derek hates himself for the new color of his eyes. I've run out of words to explain to him that it doesn't matter and if he hadn't fought back, he would be no longer.” Stiles cringed. The thought of Derek gone forever physically hurt. He hugged the jacket closer to him, pressing his nose to the collar. Derek's scent still lingered there._

“ _I don't get it.” Scott took the bottle from Stiles. “Why haven't you told me?”_

_Stiles looked in pain for a brief moment. “At first, I was too overwhelmed with the idea of Derek back in my life, Derek who'd been looking for me especially, Derek who nearly got killed in the process.” Every time he said Derek's name, his voice shook._

“ _Then? You kept this secret for over two years, Stiles. Where's Derek now?”_

_Stiles flinched as if Scott had punched him. “He left.”_

“ _Left? What aren't you telling me?”_

_For the first time since Stiles had returned, Scott saw tears swimming in his friend's eyes._

“ _The plan was to stay in D.C.. We were happy. We had a small apartment. He had his business. I was so close to becoming what I've always wanted. We had everything. Then he freaked out because it got too intense, too much, too human. And he left, like he always does when he has to clear his head.”_

“ _Okay, but that doesn't mean he's not returning,” Scott reminded him. “And what do you mean about the apartment?”_

_Stiles gave him a hard look, wiping his eyes with the back of his fingers. “You can't be that dense, Scott. Do I have to spell it out for you?”_

“ _Should I be mad you got a place to live with Derek when our plan was to do that? Though, we went on opposite sides of the country for college.”_

“ _Duuuude! Derek and I—” He broke off, looking away, glaring at the small lizard inching closer to him. “We were… we had something.”_

“ _Sorry? What do you mean?”_

“ _Scott, are you being slow on purpose? I don't know how it happened, okay? But we both agreed not to tell anyone. The day we moved into the apartment… after being up until some crazy hour unpacking and decorating… I had to go to classes. When I returned, Derek had cooked us dinner. I greeted him, and on my way to my room, I passed him. Next thing I know, my back is pressed against the wall and Derek's kissing me. I bet you don't want details. One thing is sure – I never used what should have been my room. I kept it as a study room.”_

_Scott opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn't believe what he'd just learned._

“ _Like I said. We were happy. You've never seen Derek happy, believe me. I thought I had, but in the past two years… a lot has changed. I taught him how to live, not merely survive. He's got the most beautiful smile. He can be such a dork. You have no idea. Scott, Derek barely allowed us to know him maybe...five percent when he was here. I know the real Derek.”_

“ _Okay, then what went wrong? To me it looks like...”_

“ _We were in love? You're not wrong. He never said it, but I could feel it.”_

“ _And you think he left because it got too serious?” Scott asked, skeptically._

“ _I know that. He's always told me that everything he touches breaks. Well, he kept true to his words. He broke me in tiny little pieces. No one will be able to put them back. I gave him everything, and he destroyed it with one fucking note. A note, Scott!” Stiles searched the pockets of the jacket, coming out with a crumpled paper. “By the time you read this, I'll be miles away. I'm not good with words. You must think I'm a jerk by doing it this way, but I couldn't look you in the eye and say this: Stiles, you've taught me so much in our time together, but I'm afraid I'm too broken to get further involved. I don't want you to wake up one day and realize what a horrible person lays next to you. So I will spare us a terrible end. I will never forget you, Miz. Thank you.”_

_Stiles looked up from the note, not expecting to see Scott in tears._

“ _He loves you,” Scott gasped._

“ _No shit, Sherlock? We were both involved. I tried not to push him. I never said the words I wanted to say. I was afraid to scare him away.”_

“ _What he called you…”_

 _Stiles blushed furiously, stuffing the paper back in the jacket. “He found_ _out_ _my real name. It was bound to happen...we lived together. He called me Miz.” He looked almost wistful._

“ _You hate your birth name.”_

“ _I don't hate it, Scott. It's a fucking mouthful and I'm used to Stiles.”_

“ _And you have no idea where he is?” Scott wondered, scooting closer to hug his friend._

“ _Honestly, I have mixed feelings. Right now, I'm mad at him. I'd probably punch him if he returned, but I might regret it.”_

“ _Of course, you'll regret. You love him.”_

“ _I could break my hand. Should I remind you that Derek punched through a concrete wall? He's that strong.”_

**oOo**

And that was the last time they spoke of Derek Hale.

Stiles had picked up the pieces and tried to go on with his life, day by day. No one knew his secret, except Scott. Scott never brought up Derek's name when Stiles was down. He distracted his friend.

It was Stiles who said Derek's name first, several days prior. He'd come to Scott's house after midnight, saying he heard rumors about Derek being back in town. Scott had tried to steer Stiles away from false leads and potential heartbreak, but the evidence Stiles showed him at the moment had him wondering.

If Derek was indeed back, he knew Stiles was in town. Why hadn't he contacted him?

Why hadn't he contacted Scott?

“Gotta go, buddy. I'm called at the station.” Stiles pocketed his phone. “I'm not crazy, okay? Derek's in town.”

He was out the door before Scott could comment.

“Was that Stiles's voice I heard?” Kira came into the kitchen not long later. She was wearing one of Scott's large t-shirts, her hair a mess, and barefeet.

Scott pulled her close, kissing her temple. “You just missed him. He got called at worked.”

“It's awfully early.” She slipped out of his arms, going to pour coffee in a mug. “Is he okay?”

“Sure. Why do you ask?”

“Scott, when's the last time you looked at Stiles? Really looked at him. I was talking with the girls the other day…”

“He's okay, Kira. Don't worry about him.” He hugged her tightly, hating to keep such a secret from her.

.

.

.

“Morning,” Stiles greeted Parrish, stepping into the station. “Tell me there's an actual problem and the new deputy didn't just disrupt my morning for the kicks of it.”

“There was a shaken jogger who called about crossing paths with a wolf in the woods. Jones went to get her statement.”

“A wolf?” Stiles repeated. His mind went to the paw prints he'd seen, the car in the gas station, the rumors, the light on in a place where there had been no activity since Stiles's junior year in high school.

“You're right. He shouldn't have bothered you with such a little thing. You could go back home,” Parrish said determined. “I can handle these guys while your dad is out of town.”

Stiles smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Jordan. I'll enjoy a couple of days of freedom. If you need me for anything, just call.”

He left, planning on heading home and catching on with sleep, but he ended up driving to the loft. He'd stopped at a drive-through on the way and gotten some fast food.

Parked across the street from Derek's place, he stuffed his mouth with curly fries, thinking of how he felt about Derek being back. No matter what had happened between them, or how they parted, it was unlike Derek to hide.

As evening approached, Stiles noticed a figure at the large windows. His heart stopped. It was unmistakably Derek, even though he was so high above and shadowed.

Before he knew it, Stiles was running into the building and up the stairs. He came to a halt in front of the loft's door. He didn't knock, only touched the door, gulping loudly.

“Derek?” His voice shook, and he hated himself for his weakness.

“Stiles?” The rough voice asked surprised.

“Yeah. It's really you. You're back. I'm not losing my mind.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, big guy.” Stiles made his hand into a claw, pressing his forehead to the door. “This is ridiculous. Open the door.”

“I can't.” Derek's soft voice sounded broken.

“Derek, I'll break down the goddamn door. Just open it.”

“You can't be here. You'll make it worse.”

“What are you talking about? Look, we've got a lot to talk about and I refuse to pour my heart out with an inanimate object between us. I have to see you, Der Bear.”

It was a low blow using the pet name, but the lock turned.

Stiles waited for the door to open, but it never happened. What felt like hours later, he reached for the handle and pushed.

The sight of the loft was nothing like Stiles remembered.

The door shut behind him, as he took in the dusty place. The table by the window was split in half. The couch was torn apart. There were shredded clothes all over the floor.

“Derek?” Stiles called out, unsure where he'd gone. He couldn't have imagined their conversation.

Movement from the spiral staircase caught his attention.

Derek was hunched over on the steps, his spine bowed, his stance screaming tension and nerves. His head lifted up and their eyes met.

Stiles gasped at Derek's unkempt looks, his eyes bleeding red, his face shifted into the beta werewolf form. He walked closer cautiously.

“Don't,” Derek spat, recoiling into the railing. His clawed hands gripped the wrought iron so tight, it started cracking.

Stiles didn't listen, only stopping when he was crouched beside Derek. The winding railing the only thing separating them.

“Derek…” With a shaky hand he reached out, hesitating, before pulling one of Derek's hands from the railing. He squeezed it. “I'm here.”

Derek put his other hand on the side of Stiles's face. “What's with the beard? Your hair…” He tugged gently at a long curl falling in Stiles's eyes.

“What happened to you?” Stiles made to stand and move closer to Derek, but Derek stopped him. “Are you all right?”

“No. I deserve this pain.”

“Derek, are you hurt?” Stiles was on his feet in one second flat. Three seconds later, he was on the stairs next to the werewolf. “Talk to me.”

Derek's red eyes bore into Stiles's for a long time. “If you didn't hate me before, you'll surely hate me when I'm done talking.”

“Stop that. I can never hate you.” Stiles took Derek's hands in his, smiling encouragingly. “I can never hate my big teddy bear.”

Derek had the ghost of a smile on his lips. “The reason I left was selfish.”

“I was scared of the way we were headed too, Derek. It got totally intense, but I was ready to come home and tell everyone.”

“That's not why I left. I mean, it has to do with that, but not entirely.”

“You're not making sense.” Stiles stroked the clawed hands. The skin felt rough, calloused under his touch.

“I'm not sure if you remember that I've been acting odd for days before I left…”

“If by odd you mean that we fucked more often...sure. Yeah, I remember.”

“I figured out what was happening. It freaked me out—”

Stiles huffed. “So you started feeling. God forbid that.”

Derek's wide eyes met Stiles's, surprised. “I was going into rut.”

Stiles stopped breathing, his brain short-circuiting. “What?”

“You heard me. I panicked. There was no way I could tell you that without scaring you.”

“Is that a thing? Like with real wolves? But we've been together for two years...”

“No, Stiles. The season had passed when we go together. And I honestly didn't think of my rut until all the signs were there.” His ears were red. “I don't even remember the last time I've gone into rut. I was usually careful to distance myself from people and isolate myself somewhere. Like now.”

Stiles dropped his hands, gaping at Derek. “You're in rut now?”

“I can't control myself right now. It doesn't help that last night was a full moon, either.”

“The disaster makes sense,” Stiles commented, looking over the place again. “So what does a werewolf do in a rut?”

Derek shot him a disbelieving look.

“I'm here and I'm not leaving.” Stiles stood up, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well...besides the fucking…”

“Of course.” Stiles fought against the smile threatening to spill on his face.

“There's the urge to destroy, claim, kill… I'm a lot more possessive of what's mine.”

“You won't maim me if I use your bathroom, right? I've got to pee.”

Derek snorted. “Be my guest.” His hand shot up to touch Stiles's calf as he walked past him up the stairs. Stiles paused, looking down at Derek. “Who knows you're here?”

“No one? Scott might guess where I am if I don't return his calls, because I've been telling him that you're back. There are rumors all over town.”

“I stocked up with the necessities. People noticed me. I might have gone for a run or two in the woods, too.”

Stiles combed his fingers through Derek's hair. “I'm glad you're back. Now, try not to rip my new jeans. Put the claws away, big guy.” On his way up the stairs, Stiles thought he heard Derek saying that he missed him.

When Stiles left the bathroom, he jumped, clutching the door at the sight in front of him.

Derek, still half shifted, was in the hallway, panting, his red eyes glowing.

“Is everything…” _okay?_ Stiles didn't get to finish his sentence.

Derek pulled him to his bedroom, his claws scrapping Stiles's wrist. He didn't try resisting, knowing he couldn't reason with Derek in such a situation.

He tried remembering if Scott had ever gone into rut. If it happened, Scott had never told him.

“Stiles, you have about three seconds to change your mind and get the hell out of here,” Derek said through clenched teeth.

“Dude, you can't scare me. Remember the time you shifted while we were… Yeah, if that didn't send me running to the hills, nothing can.”

Derek looked in pain for a second, then he ripped his clothes off. The gesture froze Stiles in the middle of gesticulating wildly.

He clearly hadn't expecting something so dramatic.

“Clothes off,” Derek rasped.

Stiles hastily pulled at his plaid shirt, his eyes never leaving Derek's body. He hadn't seen Derek in months, but if possible, the man had gotten hotter, bulkier, bigger. He pushed his jeans along with his boxers down his legs, nearly falling when he stepped out of them.

Derek was there to catch him. His skin was burning and his eyes were a deep red, his fangs dropped, and for a wild moment, Stiles was actually afraid. Naked and shifted Derek was kinda intimidating.

A mad giggle escaped Stiles as the song _Hungry Like A Wolf_ played in the back of his mind. Derek didn't seem to notice much as his hazy look was fixed on Stiles.

“It will be okay, bug guy.” Stiles cupped Derek's shoulder. “Tell me what you want.”

Derek didn't answer with words. He lifted Stiles off the floor, resulting in a very un-manly yelp from Stiles, before throwing him on the bed. Stiles's nose got a whiff of Derek's pillow and bedsheet, reeking of bodily fluids – cum, more exactly. It made Stiles wonder how much had Derek spanked the monkey in the past few days, weeks.

Before he could roll on his back, Derek was on top of him.

When he felt Derek's sharp claws on his ass, parting his cheeks, Stiles was grateful for his insane urge to play with his favorite dildo the previous night. It was clear, Derek wasn't going to prepare him.

Stiles could clearly remember how big Derek was. The thought of having his dick inside him without the slightest preparation terrified him.

“Whoa! Aren't you forgetting something?” His hands flailed around, since one of Derek's hands had moved to the spot between his shoulders, keeping him pinned to the bed. “Derek, please!” Stiles gasped when he felt the wet tip at his entrance.

Instead of stopping to listen to Stiles – Derek was always careful – he pushed inside. Stiles gripped the pillow, biting into it as tears sprung into his eyes. It hurt more because he hadn't had a real dick up his ass since the last time Derek had fucked him. His dick was surprisingly slick enough to be considered as coated in lube, which proved how far gone Derek actually was in his lust haze.

Stiles promised to himself, he wouldn't tell Derek what he'd done. Derek would hate himself.

Above him, Derek was all growls, fangs, claws, and frantic movements. It was as if he was chasing after something bigger than an orgasm.

Stiles found out exactly what Derek was chasing after not long later. He had no idea such a thing was possible. It hadn't happened before. He didn't even have to ask, his brain knew what was happening.

When Derek stilled above him, snarling into his ear, the base of his dick expanding in Stiles's ass so much that it hurt, Stiles knew that Derek had knotted him. He'd watched enough documentaries on TV to know about knots for wolves and dogs and the likes.

Derek was licking his shoulder and behind his ear, petting his hair, almost purring, as his dick kept spurting inside Stiles. “Miz.” The name melted Stiles, making him forget about the pain.

They rolled on their sides, and Stiles wondered for how long the knot lasted. Derek kept at his odd behavior with grooming him, for the lack of another word.

Stiles managed to doze off. When he woke up, he could turn in Derek's arms, nuzzling closer, not remembering right away the events from only a few hours ago.

“Again. I need you again.” Derek growled, pulling Stiles on his lap, to straddle him.

Everything came back like a bucket of ice on Stiles's head. He froze, his fingers gripping Derek's shoulders. The look of hunger and despair in Derek's eyes was enough for Stiles succumb to his needs. It didn't matter that his ass was on fire.

He moved slowly, bracing himself on Derek's broad chest, daring to kiss his mouth even with the proximity of fangs so close to his fragile lips.

When the knot started forming, Stiles made to protest and slip away, but Derek slammed him down, roaring through his release. Stiles came undone as well, before promptly passing out.

It was deep into the night when Derek found the power to pull away from Stiles. Six rounds with barely any time to recover completely in between had left them drained, Stiles more than Derek.

“You can rest now,” Derek whispered, getting up from the bed. “I'll order pizza.”

Stiles finished his bottle of water, shifting around, not finding a good position on the bed. “Extra cheese on mine.”

“I know how you like your pizza, Miz.”

They shared a big smile. With Derek gone, Stiles found a comfortable position, his eyes dropping. He was sore all over, and he knew that his skin had tiny scratches all over from Derek's claws.

In the quiet loft and on the verge of falling asleep, Stiles heard his phone ringing from somewhere. He couldn't find any willpower in any muscle of his body to go look for it. Amazingly, it stopped ringing, and he could succumb to sleep.

.

.

.

Derek had just finished placing their pizza order when an unknown ringtone blame from the upstairs area. It took him a moment to figure it was Stiles's phone, and he was probably sleeping by that point.

He found it on the counter in the bathroom, and without stopping to wonder why it was there, he answered. Scott's face was on the screen.

“Finally, man! I was ready to call your FBI friends to look for your body! You've no idea how worried I've been. Where are you?”

Derek was amused at Scott's speech, but it proved what a good friend he was.

“Stiles? I can hear you breathing. Werewolf hearing, remember?”

Derek cleared his throat. “Stiles's sleeping. It's Derek,” he said quietly.

“HOLY FUCK! DUUUUDE!”

Derek cringed at the loud voice, pulling the phone away from his ear. “He came over,” he explained when Scott didn't say anything else.

“I hope you had a good story for breaking his heart.” Scott sounded like the True Alpha and Stiles's best friend wrapped up in one, which made Derek glad he wasn't in front of him.

“We covered that.”

“And he forgave you, considering it's two in the morning and he's still there. I've been trying to reach Stiles for over five hours.”

“Scott…” Derek decided to explain himself, because Scott was going to find out eventually. “If you're not tired, I'll invite you over. I just placed a pizza order.”

“Where? Your house or the loft?”

“Loft. And try to be quiet when you arrive.”

“See you soon.” Scott hung up, leaving Derek holding Stiles's phone in his bathroom and staring at his reflection in the mirror.

It was the most human he'd felt in weeks. He knew another wave of his heat would hit in several hours, and hopefully Scott would be gone by then, and it wouldn't be so intense. Derek was afraid to even look at Stiles. He knew that he'd hurt him, bruised his perfect skin, marked him.

Scott arrived fifteen minutes later.

Derek was trying to rearrange his destroyed loft. He couldn't remember tearing apart the couch, but there was no way anyone would sit on it ever again. He'd managed to break the table's legs and place only the top on the floor by the window and surround it with blankets and cushions.

He was at the windows when Scott pulled up in front of his building.

Derek hadn't been so anxious about seeing someone he once knew in his life. With Stiles, he knew they'd eventually find their footing again, once he came clean. Sure, he'd been terrified of Stiles rejecting him when he found out the real reason, but his actions from some hours ago proved how much he trusted and cared for Derek.

The door of the loft opened, and Scott stood there, his helmet held loosely in his left hand. His eyes flashed red as he found Derek's guarded face.

“You're in rut.”

“Hello to you too, Scott.” Derek should have known Scott would figure it out from a sniff.

“Does Stiles know?”

Derek could feel his face flushing. “He's aware.”

Scott growled loudly, advancing to Derek, shifting. “What have you done?”

“Nothing above or beyond what you'd do in my place. If Kira can take it, surely Stiles can.”

Scott growled even louder, grabbing Derek by the front of his shirt. “Stiles is human. He might be a tough little shit, but at the end of the day, he's still human. Kira's a kitsune. She has her own heats.”

“Can you lower you voice? He's sleeping.” Derek frowned, stepping away from Scott. He smoothed the holes Scott's claws had left in his shirt. “We talked…some…about this. He caught me at a bad time, but I tried to stay lucid for him.”

Scott gasped. “The last time… When you left him…”

“Yes. It was my first rut in a long time. I never spent this time with others. In my first ever rut, I nearly killed Kate, and I regret it to this day that I hadn't gone through with it. Then, my next ruts with someone were spent with Braeden. It was probably too much for her, or whatever we had was too much for both of us…”

Scott shifted back, relaxing. He looked around, frowning. “Tell me it wasn't you who wrecked the place.”

“It's a work in progress. I've been remodeling for a couple of weeks.” Derek joked.

“You know why you have this aggressive behavior, right? If you allowed yourself to do what your body wants…”

Derek leaned against a pillar, his arms folded across his chest. “As much as I've calmed down doing what my body wants, as you so kindly put it… Every rut is different.”

Scott smirked. “I took care of a dog once. His family brought him to the clinic, saying he was aggressive and they were ready to give him away. It took only a look at him, to know poor thing was going in heat. He was as scared as his owners, not knowing what was happening. He tried biting me several times, until I calmed him somewhat, showing him who the alpha was.”

“That's abuse of power.” Derek laughed. He turned to the door when the delivery man was there, looking uncertain. He strode over, paid for the pizza, and shut the door. “Next time you come into my place, kindly close the door behind you.”

They sat at the makeshift table on the floor, catching up.

Derek broke off from his story about catching Kate somewhere in Colombia, when he heard Stiles descending. He had one of Derek's shirts on and a pair of boxers, not hiding the bruises Derek had put on him.

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, his eyes shifting from one werewolf to the other, settling on Derek, and giving him a big smile. Then he noticed the food. “Pizza!”

Stiles plopped down next to Derek, wincing visibly, but it didn't stop him from pulling the largest box toward him. He opened the lid, drool gathering in his mouth at the smell of cheese. He caught Derek's eye, smiling.

“Try to leave some for us too,” Derek said sternly.

“You already ate,” Stiles said around his bite, gesturing to the crust left of the other pizza. “When did you get here?” He asked Scott.

“A while ago. You didn't answer my calls.”

“Told ya he knew I was here.” Stiles winked at Derek, chewing around the big bite he took.

“Actually, I answered your phone…”

Stiles pouted, looking at Scott. “And you didn't even think I was here? Seriously? I kept telling you Derek was back for over a week. You chose not to believe me.”

“I refused to admit that you'd do something so stupid as to go alone after Derek. There was something fishy going on.”

“Does he know?” Stiles asked Derek. When he got a nod, he turned to Scott. “Then you know how he feels. You never told me such a thing was possible. I'm your best friend! Why haven't you told me?”

“Because it didn't happen until college for me! I was freaking out, not knowing what was happening to me at the time. So I called Allan. He explained that it should have happened when I was younger, but since I'm a bitten wolf and I had just lost Allison—my partner, my body was in shock or something. I spent my first rut jerking off and running around the park at night. Next year, I had Kira with me.” Scott scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It's not something I could tell you, Stiles.”

“It would have helped. If I was aware of such a thing… I'd have known Sourwolf was going into rut back then. I'd have chained him to the bed.”

Derek choked on his slice of pizza.

“Not literally, dude! You'd break through them. Hmm, maybe if I lace them with wolfsbane…”

Scott looked sick. “Can you not discuss that while I eat?”

“Payback for all the times you told me about your sexy times with Allison and Kira.” Stiles stuck his tongue out. “God, I'm in love.” He tried folding a slice of pizza and stuffing it all in his mouth.

Derek stared at him amused, while Scott looked mildly horrified.

“Whut? I need practice.” Stiles winked at Derek, who looked ready to discover a way to become invisible.

.

.

.

Stiles leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Derek plated finger food. He hadn't touched Derek in over ten minutes, which should have been considered a crime. So he slid closer, wrapping his arms around Derek, pressing kisses to his shoulder.

“Your father will be here any moment,” Derek reminded him.

“Not for another half an hour. Besides, I'm not doing anything. I missed you.”

Derek twisted around so he could hug Stiles, before leaning forward to kiss him. “One would think you had enough in the past week.”

“Enough of you? No way, big guy!”

Derek lowered his hands until they grabbed Stiles's ass, then he lifted him off the floor, deepening the kiss. Stiles fell into him, moaning, his fingers clutching at Derek's hair.

“Guuuys!” Scott groaned, making them pull apart. “Seriously. You had one job.”

“The food's cut and plated,” Derek explained.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Have you seen Kira? She said she'd be right back. That was a while ago.”

“She went upstairs,” Stiles said, pointing to the stairs.

“So how long until she tells him what's going on?” Derek mused. “Although, I'm surprised Scott hasn't smelled anything off. I sniffed it from the moment I saw her earlier.”

“Scott hasn't been around anyone pregnant.” Stiles defended his friend. “Though, it was pretty obvious even to me when she ran upstairs after smelling the burgers. She loves burgers.”

“Which brings me back to the question – when is she going to tell him?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. He took Derek's hands, looking serious. “Oh, baby, guess what? I'm pregnant!”

Derek cringed, opening his mouth to comment on Stiles's bad impersonation of Kira, to be interrupted by a loud thud from the doorway.

The Sheriff had dropped his suitcase, staring at them overwhelmed. Kira and Scott were at the foot of the stairs, looking at each other. Kira had a guilty expression on her face, and Scott was pale and confused.

“Dad, you're home!” Stiles decided to disrupt the awkward moment by flinging himself at his father. “Never leave me in charge of the station again. It was insane.”

“What's insane is that I heard my own son saying something completely _insane_ to Hale.”

“Oh, that.” Stiles scratched the back of his head, glancing at Scott. “We were just joking about something.”

“Is it true?” Scott asked in a small voice, leaning against the wall, his eyes trained on Kira.

“This isn't the way I wanted to tell you.” She shot Stiles a dirty look. “But yes, it's true. I found out the other day when I visited Mom.”

“I bet she could smell it on you,” Derek commented.

“We need to have a talk about this, Der Bear. Smelling people isn't polite,” Stiles joked, returning to Derek's side and snuggling into him. “You can smell me any time you want, though,” he whispered.

“When did this happen?” The Sheriff asked, confused. “I'm too old for so many surprises.”

Stiles froze mid stroking Derek's hair. He turned to his father slowly. “Uh, it's a long story.”


End file.
